Home
by chucknotsteve
Summary: Padmé has been alive for 6 years after her husband has turned to the dark side, and she returns to Tatooine to see her son. AU, later new characters. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Home

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A/N: I started this story and I really don't know if I'll finish it. I like the way it is now, but I have no direction in which I'm going to work. If you have any ideas, feel free to message me. 

Summary: Written in the point of view of Padmé, hidden for six years, so goes to Tatooine to meet her son. How will thing end up?

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For the past six years, I haven't had a home. Insane to say, but truly, I always felt at home when Anakin was with me, and since he hasn't been with me, I do not have a home. Living with my parents was fine for a year, until I got back onto my feet, and then I went to Dantooine, a place where I have a small apartment, room for one, me, and that is about it—it is no home.

I don't know what compelled me to come here today. This planet was a desolate place full of endless deserts that I couldn't bare to see. Maybe that was why I came—I couldn't stand the thought of someone I loved, the love wasn't mutual, growing up here. Anakin had, and he constantly told me for the four years we were together how much he hated this planet.

Kicking some sand beneath my feet with my boot, I looked around at the mud buildings that this place called a 'city', and frowned. Why would I have chosen my son to live here, to start his life here? The wind picked up, and the hot bluster of sand stung my skin. I wrapped my black shall around me, and tightened the hat that protected the inhabitants from recognizing my identity.

Looking around from a friendly looking human, I tapped one seemingly nice person on the shoulder, making him twirl around. Talking to people became a bad habit now days, especially with the entire universe assuming I was dead.

"Excuse me," I said kindly, my voice low, the same one I used for my first term as Queen many years ago, "Can you tell me where the moisture farms are?" I handed him a cheap datapad I had purchased at the transport station, pointing out the exact farm I needed to go.

"Ah, lady," the man said, "This is Tosche Station. The moisture farms are a far ways' from here. It's an eopie ride I get there—you would never make it on foot."

Pausing to think this over, I nodded slowly, tucking the datapad under my arm. "Fair enough," I murmured, intending for him to hear that but the comment more for my pleasure than his, "Where can I get one?"

He looked me up and down, snickered and said, "You'll need someone to help you."

I sneered, unimpressed with his comment, "I'm tougher than I look," I pulled out some Imperial credits from my pocket, and showed the currency to him, "Look, I need to get to the Lars' estate before sunset."

He sighed and pointed to an eopie near the south side of a mud building. I faintly smiled, and then shook the man's hand, secretly giving him 10 Imperial credits as I hurried away. Immediately I realized I had no idea how to ride such a creature, and my excitement disappeared fast. Staring at the animal, I recognized it from when Anakin had pod races when I was fourteen, and I remembered what a foul animal it was. I frowned. Wishing I could suddenly use the force I get myself onto the eopie, I put my feet in the loops and thrusted myself on.

* * *

The double sunset on Tatooine was amazing, and I didn't give it enough credit the first time, and second time I was here. Approaching the Lars homestead, I watched as the twin suns sunk under the horizon, and the moons appeared as an after show, almost. The sunset on Curoscant was always amazing, but, of course, the light on the city planet was artificial, made by mirrors. But, this—this was the real deal. I smiled, happy that my son had been enjoying this for the past six years he had been alive.

I stopped my eopie far away from the homestead, behind the vaporators. Tying him to the smallest machine, I couldn't take my eyes off a certain small figure, sitting on the edge of the crater that opened to the actual home.

He was so small, even for his age. As I got closer to him, I began to notice that his blonde hair was quite like the nine-year old Anakin that I had met before he was a Jedi, before he was my husband, before he was a dark lord. Not facing his front, I couldn't make out his features just yet, but I hoped I would soon.

My feet wandered to the stairs leading downstairs, but I didn't take them. I was too mesmerized by the boy—

He was my son.

The actually blood relation just dawned on me. I was staring at my son, the boy I gave birth to first, from the back and a chill ran up my spine. I had never felt such excitement mixed with fear before, and I didn't like it. Maybe if Anakin was here…

The sun had not fully set, for the flash of light after the two suns became out of reach was not yet happening. Much to my surprise, the boy turned around, and gave me a puzzled look.

"Hi," I squeaked. I couldn't find my voice, all of a sudden, and I was unexpectedly nervous around him.

His soft blonde hair, bleached from the desert sun, swayed as he cocked his head. He scooted away from me, frightened by the stranger, "Hi," he said back, still staring me down. His voice quivered as he moved further away from me.

"Oh, please don't be _afraid_…"

I didn't want to scare him. I didn't want to be the scary stranger that intruded on his home life, the person who came to the middle of the desert to kidnap him. No, I wouldn't let that happen. My brow trembled when I realized he stopped moving away from me. It was obvious he could feel my—kindness? He didn't say anything, so I gulped, and then said, "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

He looked from me to the sunset, "Aunt Beru lets me watch the sunset before bedtime," I decided that his voice was the sweetest voice I had ever heard. I smiled. He turned back to him, and cocked his head again, "Why are you smiling?"

Another shiver went up my spine and down again. "Oh, nothing," I said. I found it odd that he was speaking to me. Shouldn't he be running away? I was a stranger to him, after all.

"Why are you here?" Came the very question I was wondering.

"Visiting an old friend," I said with a smile, answering him. It was the truth, from a certain point of view. I wanted to sit down next to him, and talk forever. I wanted to ask him what he was learning, what he liked, and what he wanted to be when he grew up. I'd ask him what his favorite colours were, and who was his best friend. But I couldn't. I couldn't sit next to him, and I couldn't tell him I was his mother, and he couldn't call me Mommy. It would be too _dangerous_…

He looked back onto the sunset. This gave me time to examine his features, and I noticed his face, his bone structure, was almost exactly like Anakin's had been, and his hair—and his eyes, crystal blue. But he had my mouth. "Yeah, but I don't think you're a stranger," he said proudly, "Haven't I met you befor-ah?"

His childish accent, his unknowing of the word 'before' made me chuckle. "I don't think so," she answered, "Maybe once, maybe we walked past each other in Mos Eisley before. But I've never talked to you." I forced myself I not call him by the name I gave him. I didn't sit next to him, for I knew that Owen or Beru would call him inside any moment.

The brilliant flash of light indicated that the sun was fully set, and he brushed the sand off his little hands, not bothering to brush it off his tunic as any six-year-old little boy would. Right on queue, Beru's voice was heard from down below, "Luke! Bedtime!"

He smiled as if he knew this process before, and said, "Wait, who _are_ you?"

I couldn't answer, "No one," again I found it hard not to say his name, "Goodnight."

He waved, and I walked away.

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_Next chapter_: Padmé confronts Obi-Wan. 


	2. Chapter 2

Home: Chapter Two

I rapped on the door loudly, peering through the peep whole even though I knew I couldn't see inside. The blinds on the windows were shut, and it gave the impression that no one was home. I knew better. I knocked again, loudly, and grunted. The wind around began to grow, and the san whipped across my lower half.

Sandstorms can be very, very dangerous… came the words of a nine-year-old boy in my mind. I frowned, hating that I was suddenly thinking about him again. 

I heard stirring inside the home, and I stopped being anxious and anticipated my… friend? coming to… greet me?

The door opened slightly, just enough for him to peek his head out. I smiled genuinely when I saw him, for I had not seen him in many years. He looked me up and down, and noticed the sandstorm developing. "Padmé?"

I reluctantly nodded, knowing that no cameras or spy mechanisms were around me. "Yeah," I said softly, "It's me." I smiled again, "Well are you going to let me in or not?"

He chuckled, and the door slid open, and was quick to shut after I was inside the small home. I looked around, noticing the native ceiling painting. By the starkness of the place, it was clear that he hardly called this home. He gestured to a white sofa, where I graciously sat.

"Obi-Wan…" I was quick to catch myself, "I mean _Ben_—"

Obi-Wan sat down in the seat next to me, and interrupted, "Why are you here, Padmé?" It was clear he was eager to know.

I gulped, and decided to smirk, "I wanted to meet my son," I said, sitting up straight a little. "I'm only here for a while—"

"Are you insane?" He scowled, standing up. I looked up at him, frowning, and realized that I had made a huge mistake coming to Obi-Wan's… "Do you know how much danger you have put yourself in, or even Luke?" His tone rose as he spoke, and midway he turned to look outside at the approaching storm.

I looked down to my lap, feeling ashamed. How could I have been so stupid? Coming to Tatooine in the first place was a mistake by far—and now that I think back upon it talking to Luke so bluntly was _not _a good idea either.

And then the Padmé I knew came screaming back. Luke is my son—_Luke Skywalker_. Yes, sure, he needs to be protected from 'the big, bad Empire' and most of all, Vader. I couldn't even think about that before, much less now. Maybe if he was with me, I could assure him, maybe even Leia, that they would be safe with me. Maybe I could…

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," I started. I took a seat, realizing that he should cool down and not lose his temper. "I have every right to come and meet my son; I even have the right to take him back to Dantooine with me. It's a far better place that this Godforsaken planet. It's safer, by far." I paused, and noticed Obi-Wan's green eyes were glazing over, "Yes, Vader will not step foot on this planet as long as he remains in term… but you cannot deny me of a blood relative, more or less my _son_."

He sighed, and I paced. He was thinking.

I was about to start arguing again when he raised his hand to stop me, "Before you start speaking again…" he said, "I didn't mean to offend you, or in any way 'deny you' of your son. I _know_ he's your son; I was there when he was _born_, Padmé." He sighed again, "But what you're doing is making Vader sense you and your son, together—it cannot be safe to take him to Dantooine."

"But what _you're_ doing is raising him in a place where he doesn't belong," I told him, "Anakin hated it here—and my… our son does too," I frowned, taking a seat that I had given up when I lost my temper, "I don't want Luke to end up like—"

"—Padmé, don't say it—"

"His father," I said much to Obi-Wan's annoyance. But that was what I was aiming for. "You don't even speak about Anakin, about Anakin's fall…" Obi-Wan looked down at the floor, and didn't meet my stern brown eyes, "You act as though it never happened. You act like it's your fault, and you know it's not." I swallowed hard. "If it's anyone's fault, it's _mine_."

Obi-Wan sighed, taking a seat behind me. It was true, and I could see that he thought so, as well, behind his eyes. "Padmé, no—don't think that." He took my hand, a friendly gesture, nothing more, and I made me feel like Obi-Wan, or Ben, as they called him now, was my Jedi friend again. "Anakin's turn to the dark side wasn't anybody's fault… it was his choice… we shouldn't blame ourselves for it all." 

I nodded reluctantly, happy to be able to talk about Anakin again. I pulled my hand away from the entanglement that my hand and Obi-Wan's were caught into and let out a small sigh. Under my breath, I said, "I miss him so much, Obi-Wan…"

I pulled away from him; afraid he'd say something negative, stood up, and looked out the window, trying to spot the Lars homestead. I wanted to say how much I missed him—I wanted to tell him how the nights were lonely without him, without Luke, without Leia. I wanted to tell him that living alone, knowing that I was dead according the universe, was unbearable.

There was a long pause, and then Obi-Wan said lowly, "I miss him too."

In a way, I was surprised for him to say something this open. Then again, I wasn't. Obi-Wan and Anakin were as thick and thieves—sometimes Anakin referred to Obi-Wan as close as a brother, as close as the father he never had.

I came over to him, sitting back down, leaning close to him, eager to hear what he had to say. I wondered if that was all that he was going to say. I brushed a stray hair from my face and said, "Really?" My eyebrows rose.

He nodded, but didn't say anything else.

There was a pause, and while looking down at his worn boots that he obviously had from when he lived on Curoscant, he said quietly,

"You may take your son."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

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Sliding into the cold stone chair sitting around the matching table, Obi-Wan poured me tea from Mos Eisley and sat down next to me. He had a sad smile on his face as he looked over me and said, "You look different, Padmé." He put his fist underneath his chin.

Looking into my small cup of tea, I didn't flinch. I did not reply right away, but frowned and said simply, "I cut my hair a few inches."

Again, he showed me a very sad smile, grabbing my hand, being a good friend that he always was. He sighed.

"Padmé, I know that you were, well--in love with Anakin," he said, trying to meet my eyes but failing as they drifted to the window. "And even though being a Jedi, I know how it feels to lose someone you love," he pulled my face so I met his green eyes. They looked old, as well as sad, like mine. He smile turned to genuine. "You know you have a friend here, if you need one..."

I shrugged, "Thank you, Obi-Wan."

Trying not to break down into tears during that moment was indescribably hard. Speaking about love--Anakin--made me bring back memories, secret memories, memories that I had shut out from everyone. I could not deny that I did not miss my husband. Brushing a strand of hair from my face, I fake-smiled, showing that I could be strong, apparently. "Well," I said after the awkward lull in our conversation, "About my son..."

"I should go with you."

I was quick to answer, "No." But after feeling bad about that, I said, "I mean, I think I should handle this myself..."

"Fair enough," Obi-Wan decided, "All though I do believe another storm is approaching. You should leave quickly." He stood up abruptly, getting my shawl and helping me outside the door. He showed me to my eopie and helped me on, and from then on everything felt like a blur. Leaving Obi-Wan's homestead was abrupt and quick, or maybe it just seemed fast because I was dreading encountering the Lars'. Don't get me wrong, Anakin's relatives were with me when he left to find his mother, and I hadn't seen them since. They were obviously amazing people; they took in my son when he was a baby, from an almost complete stranger... and were raising him as a normal boy.

Even when I was pregnant I knew that my children would be raised as normal beings--they would not be dangerous and be a Jedi, unless forced by the Order. Of course, if they wanted to, it was their choice...

I realized then that I had learned to ride an eopie from Anakin, back when he was nine. It was before to Bounta Eve pod race, and he wanted me, of course, to ride it with him. Being a nice teenager, I of course said yes, that I would ride it with him. He taught me how to go, and how to stop, and how to turn--the basics. I realized now that I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Anakin, that I wouldn't be collecting my son if it wasn't for the help of a little boy.

The suns were set by the time I reached the Lars homestead, and I left my eopie far from the hovel. I found myself walking alot, down the spiral staircase that led into the real 'home' part of the place. Since the sun was set, the lights were set on dim. I heard voices from the kitchen alcove, and quickly searched for the voices. "Hello?" I called. I found it odd that the Lars' had no form of security; they didn't have C-3PO anymore to greet the (few) beings who visited.

"Hello?" Came a voice I knew to be Owen's girlfriend, Beru. She turned the corner, and it took a moment for her to see who I was. At first, she stuttered, utterly stunned upon my arrival, mainly that fact that I was alive. Her eyes widened as she surveyed me, looking me up and down continuously until it dawned her that I was indeed alive, and not dead. "Pa--Senator Amidala...?"

She used my formal name, something I hadn't gone by since I had stepped down from my post. "Just Padmé, please, Beru--" I told her, as politely as possible. "I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but..."

"Bother me?" Beru asked. I wasn't sure how this would unfold from here--would she be angry, would she be grateful? "We haven't been _bothered_ since Obi-Wan Kenobi arrived on Tatooine." She forced a smile; was it a joke? Nevertheless, I stifled a nervous laugh. "Come, please sit..."

Beru led me to the sitting area, exactly how I remembered it to be, holding out my chair for me. I muttered thank-you's to her, and then Owen appeared. He came through the doorway, same way I had, and just--stared.

It was quite harsh, actually.

Trying to behave in the most polite way, I stood up, holding out my hand. He took it reluctantly, while I said, "Hello, Owen," I forced a friendly smile, almost thanking him for raising Luke, "We've met before--a long time ago."

His eyes widened like Beru's as he helped me into my seat again--they had the same expression written on their face, basically screaming, 'Wait, why are you here?'

I put on my Senatorial face, and spoke in my Senatorial manner, trying not to show my real emotions. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," was all that I could manage to get out, "But after Anakin, well--died--" I decided it was best if they didn't know the truth, or if they already knew, I should say it as discretely as possible, "It was crucial that I went into hiding..."

Beru nodded, as if they understood. Owen's eyebrows made their way up his face, listening intently.

"...so here I am--on Tatooine," I said, "I visited Master Kenobi and," I decided it was best if I didn't tell them I had met Luke already, "I said that... I should come to you in person about... about..." My Senatorial speech had worn off and I was now nervous and it was showing on the outside.

"...Luke," Beru said, "About Luke. About your son."

My brown eyes drifted to my lap but looked up upon hearing his name, the name I had given him--"Yes, Luke," I said emotionally.

"He was never ours to have--"

"Beru, don't--"

Beru shot Owen a look and said to me, "--but we still treat him like our own. Luke is your son, and he tells us all the time the 'dreams' he has of exploring the stars, and seeing all of them--"

"He's just a little boy, Beru--"

"Owen!" She exclaimed. I jumped a bit in my seat, but she continued with, "He's asleep now, and I'm guessing you want to take him back to..." She searched her mind for what I had told her, and then I realized I did not tell her anything about my whereabouts.

"--Dantooine," I answered.

Her eyes narrowed, "Dantooine," she echoed. "Would it be easier if you took him while he was, well--asleep?"

This struck me as odd. Why would I take my son without telling him first? Wouldn't that scare him when he woke up with a stranger, only with someone he had met one before when he was outside watching the sunset? What if he was already awake now? But then I realized that it might be easier for Luke to overcome leaving the Lars' if he hadn't known until after--and they could say their good-byes later...

"Oh, I don't think..." I started, and then Beru's gaze was over my shoulder as she formed a small smile.

"Never mind that, I believe he's already awake," Beru said, watching a very sleepy Luke wander into the kitchen.

The little boy's blonde hair was scruffy and slept on, while his off white sleeping pants were pulled up to his waist, and he was wearing a black robe. I couldn't help but force a happy smile--happy to see him again. He tiredly crawled into Beru's lap while giving me a little wave. He said quietly, "Hi."

"Hi," I said back, giving him a tiny wave as well.

Beru smiled, "Luke, this is--Padmé," she told him, "She's your mother."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

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é

"She's your mother," Beru soothingly told Luke, almost whispering the words into Luke's ear. The young boy was sitting on his aunt's lap, tired but equally eager to meet this... stranger?

Luke rubs his eyes with his tiny fist, and yawned. "Moth-er?" He echoed, giving me a wide look. "I didn't know I had one, Aunt Beru."

Beru laughed solemnly at the boy's grammatical errors, but I could tell she was upset that I had come. It was only fair, because from what I could see Owen and Beru had become quite attached to my son, which was understandable. Luke was raised at their hands, and watching a child grow up on your watch is something special, something almost--your own.

I would never know.

I run my finger through my curly hair for what seemed like the ninth time in the past minute, and forced an awkward smile to Luke. I wanted to tell him that he should come live with _me_, that he should grow up under _my_ watch...

Beru waited for Luke's confusion to pass until saying to the wide blue eyed six year old boy, "Luke," she said with an short sigh, "Go pack your things; you'll be leaving soon."

I had to force myself not to smile, for I was very happy. Obviously, Luke was not.

Unshed tears formed in the boy's eyes as he stared at his aunt, waiting for her to say more. She didn't say anything else about Luke leaving--

"Be a big boy about this, Luke," she said calmly, getting off his aunt's laugh when Beru moved her legs around. She gave him a gentle, reassuring shove, and he disappeared behind the white walls of the breakfast alcove.

I felt I needed to say something. "You don't have to--"

"Yes, she did," Owen interrupted, "Luke wasn't ours to keep--we never _adopted_ him." He paused, and looked at his hands, finding something to fix his eyes on instead of me. "After Luke is packed and ready, you can take him with you."

"Are you planning on taking Leia, too?"

I couldn't believe I had been asked this question. Beru and Owen knew about Leia?

My brown eyes widened and it was obvious that I was taken back by their comment. It wasn't that it was rude--no, it wasn't, it was honest--but how did they know about Leia?

All I could get out of me was, "W--w--what?" I could feel my hand start to shake, and to stop it I ran my hands through my hair again.

"Leia," Owen echoed, backing up his wife (girlfriend?), "You're _daughter_...?"

You see, I wouldn't have been so thrown off if Obi-Wan had told me that many people knew about my daughter. Many people, of course, meaning only Owen and Beru. I thought that Kenobi had told them that Anakin and I had died during the Purges; I guess I wasn't aware of the truth. Luke was more of an... obvious secret, for his last name had not been changed. He was still Luke Skywalker, which was odd, because 'Skywalker' was not a common name like 'Green', per say. Leia, on the other hand, had been adopted. I had been present at the signing of the papers when she was eight months old, as well--and I stayed at the Alderaanian Palace until the remaining Jedi had thought it to be safe for me to leave.

I participated in Leia's life up until she was eight months old. I acted as a handmaiden for the 'princess' until she could speak, as well. While I was not at the end of the room while she took her first steps I watched from afar, proud of my daughter and thinking about my (late?) husband the entire time. He would have been so proud of his little girl...

"I know," I said, "I am just surprised that you know about her--that you know of our... relation."

"Obi-Wan told us where you lived when he brought Luke to us, in case we needed a... blood relative."

I nodded, still unsure.

---

I had downed two cups of caf and six chocolate biscuits, and now I was sitting on the harshly cold white outdoor stairwell outside of Luke's little hovel.

He was arguing with his aunt, his shrill voice groggy from the tiredness. He was whining now...

"But I haf-taaa bring my X-Wing fighter, Aunt Beru--I just..."

There was very low whispering, presumably from Beru, and I could not make it out. Minutes later the six year old boy emerged from his bedroom with a gentle push. Shortly after Beru followed, then Owen, and the blue eyes of my son pierced mine.

He was frightened?

I was nervous, and I decided to turn away while Beru and Owen said good-bye to Luke--forever.

When they will done with their simple, easy good-byes, Luke turned to me, heading up the stairs. I muttered a simple, "thank you," and headed out of their homestead. Once we reached the top of the stairs, I reached for my son's hand.

Reluctantly he took it, and his eyes were still wide, not believing that this was actually happening. Wasn't he happy that he was with his mother now? Wasn't he happy to see me?

His hand was cold and clammy in mine, but for some reason, I liked it. I flashed him a tiny smile, and I could tell that he was dragging his feet, all ready tired. "Luke," I said. His head perked up, listening. "I can carry you to the eopie..."

His eyes twinkled with a little bit of fear, as if he was unsure. I forced myself not to frown, for I was saddened by the fact that he was... scared on me?

"Really?" He rubbed his eyes, and he stopped moving his feet. I nodded, getting on my knees and allowing him to wrap his arms around my neck. His weight pulled at my hair, but it didn't matter. I stood back up, and within moments, he was fast asleep.

As the silence of the night eluded and the heat died down, gradually approaching my eopie, I smiled.

---


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: This story is not Obidala, just FYI.

----

My son slept peacefully throughout the entire trip. Since the sun was past being down, I hurried back to Obi-Wan's homestead to spend the night. I remembered Anakin's mother being out after dark, and how she was taken by Tusken Raiders. I sighed of relief when I spotted the little hovel on a hill, and pretty soon my eopie brought me to his front door.

He must have felt my presence because as I was about to knock lightly, he opened the door. He didn't say anything; he didn't even smile. I knew he felt like it was an obligation for him to say yes to me when I wanted to become Luke's mother again; suddenly I didn't care. I placed a sleeping Luke on Obi-Wan's sofa, planting a small, secret kiss on his forehead. I yearned to do that before, when Beru and Owen were there, when Beru held Luke on her lap, and held him close...

But I couldn't. The secret sign of affection was something I am sure Luke wouldn't feel comfortable with that, especially having just met me. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear and turned to face the Jedi.

"Well?" He asked nonchalantly.

I gulped. "Beru and Owen Lars let me take him back to Dantooine with me," I said. I stood up straight, displaying confidence, even though I had close to nil right now. "They were very... _easy_ about it."

He nodded.

Just _nodded_.

Swallowing again, I looked back down at my sleeping son, "Where can we sleep?"

"I have a spare room," he told me, "It is a single bed, but I have a blanket."

I nodded, scooping up Luke again, and carrying him into the spare room. His legs dangled around my waist, lifeless, for he was deep into his sleep. Obi-Wan turned down the sheets for him, and I placed him into the middle of the bed, tucking the covers underneath his tiny body. He situated a bit, rolling towards me in his sleep, and again I kissed him, this time I kissed his cheek.

I felt like I should say something, something moral, but I didn't, especially with Obi-Wan near the door, watching me. I frowned, and got up to leave.

Obi-Wan handed me a blanket and a small pillow, and I took my small pack and took out my toothbrush, heading into the 'fresher when I noticed that he was watching the HoloNet, recently renamed Imperial News. I hardly watched the nonsense, but suddenly I heard the cursed name of the sith apprentice I thought I knew.

Still clutching my toothbrush, I sat down firmly next to him, eyes glued to the holograph. "Is he--always on?" I asked, not averting my eyes. My husband had become a monster of black machinery and a red lightsaber. He was the emperor's pet, and play thing that he sent out to kill everyone in the galaxy.

Solemnly, Obi-Wan nodded.

There was a pause, and then he said, "He has been sent to Corellia now. There is thought to be rogue Jedi hiding there, and, well--"

"--he wants to kill them," I finished.

He turned to me, and I turned to him, and we exchanged confused looks. "You seen awfully comfortable talking about this," he told me, "Or are you... bluffing?"

"I haven't talked about him in forever," I said.

He nodded, seemingly understanding. "You don't watch the news frequently, do you? You don't seem to know much about him," he said. I answered my question for me, and before I could speak, he said, "I'll send you an immediate hologram if he is sent to Dantooine."

I nodded, "Thank you," I told him.

"Even if he is all machine now--he had the highest count--he'd be able to sense you and Luke as always," Obi-Wan's hand hovered over the screen and then it clicked off, by using the Force. _I miss that_, I mused. "Well, goodnight, Padmé."

"Goodnight, Obi-Wan," I said with a smile, wrapping the blanket around me.

---

I hardly slept through the night. When Luke woke up, I was already awake, rummaging through Obi-Wan's kitchen through pots and pans. I was never a good cook, as Anakin told me countless times, but I was hungry, and I was sure that Luke would be hungry as well.

"Good morning," I heard a small voice say to me, when my head was inside a cabinet. I poked out upon hearing my son's voice, and I smiled.

"Hello, Luke," I said, suddenly nervous. "Hungry?" I held up a box of cereal, hoping he liked it...

He nodded fiercely. "Yeah, thanks," he said, taking a seat at Obi-Wan's small table. I watched as he found his way into the tall seat, scrunching up into his chair. I placed the bowl of cereal in front of him, and the bottle of blue milk that I was positive has gone bad. Luke gave the blue milk a long, hard look and frowned.

"Do you not like milk?" I asked, kneeling kindly down next to him. "Do you want something else--"

"No," he answered quietly, "But Aunt Beru used to pour my milk..."

I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly made a grab for the jug. "I can do that for you," I said. I pured him his milk and he sloppily ate his cereal while I nonchalantly watched him. He was a good kid, I decided. Why wouldn't he be, of course? With parents like Anakin and I, he was bound to end up a good child. Anakin was a good kid; he looked a lot like Luke, actually.

Sighing, I realized that I missed Anakin so much. Would he have been surprised with twins, when I had them? Would he be an excellent father, or think Jedi over his love? When they were born, would the Council have found out about our secret affair?

At that moment, Obi-Wan came into the room sleepily, scratching his head and stretching. "Good morning, Padmé," he said through a yawn. He spotted the cereal bowl and poured some for himself.

I put the last of my belongings into my belongings into my pack and zipped it up; I was ready to leave this terrible planet. I looked over at Luke, who was mesmerized by Obi-Wan's ability to levitate Luke's spoon. "How dija do that, Ben?" He asked, the blue eyes of his father wide and amazed.

I don't know why, but I answered for Obi-Wan, so he didn't have to tell Luke about the Force just yet, "--he's magic, Luke," I said. I could tell the boy still wasn't accustomed to me; me being his mother.

"Oh," he said quietly. He looked up at Obi-Wan, his bright blue eyes shimmery, "My aunt and uncle say that magic isn't real..."

"You're aunt and uncle are incorrect, Luke," he answered back to Luke, and it was the end of the conversation.

---


	6. Chapter 6

é

Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry this took so long. School has really been hectic.

---

He was reluctant to hold my hand at first. Of course, being his mother, I noticed this immediately. He was a difficult child, I slowly learned.

Maybe he was just difficult towards me.

As I thought about what he had been through--he was told both of his parents were killed--and then I show up, fully alive. After all, he was only a boy--would be think much of her presence?

Did he _know_ what she had been through?

No.

Luke, being the small boy that he was, shadowed and kept away from the HoloNet and the truth of his parents, didn't know that I was an active member of the rebellion. That I fell in love with a man who was forbidden to me. That he has a sister that I haven't seen since she spoke her first word.

My eyes glanced over to my son, sitting quietly on his small, blue suitcase. It was tightly shut, neatly made. He crossed his fingers in his lap, properly.

I smiled.

Finding this sight amusing--such a small boy, so well behaved--I was ready to ask him where his boyish spirit was, where the hyper stereotypical six year old was. But I didn't.

"Are you ready to go, Luke?" I asked kindly, holding out my hand to him, secretly praying that he would grab it.

I stared at my palm for a moment before hopping off his suitcase and lifting the handle, letting it roll behind him as he came and put his little, cold and clamming hand in mind. Then, he smiled up at me (closed mouth), and nodded briskly.

"Okay then," I said, more for my need than his.

"Is Ben comin' too?" He asked, his big blue eyes wide. He squeezed my hand when he said this, the excitement setting him.

This actually broke my heart. Did he want to spend more time with Obi-Wan than me, his mother? Probably, I concluded, since he was a boy, Obi-Wan was a boy, it was common sense--but _not_.

I smiled (me too, closed mouth), "Not this time, Luke."

As we reached the sitting room, where Obi-Wan was contently watching the HoloNet (I forced myself not to look), I nudged Luke to go and say his goodbyes.

He nodded, letting go of my hand quickly. He ran for Obi-Wan, hopping next to him on the couch. I watched this, this... adoration for Obi-Wan, and I suddenly became forcefully jealous.

Luke reached over and hugged his left side, and Obi-Wan's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Bye, Ben!" Luke shouted in his ear, and then hopped off the couch and grabbed his suitcase.

He didn't grab my hand again, instead using that same hand to wave at Obi-Wan. "Come and visit me and her."

Her.

I was 'her' to him.

Not Mommy.

He tumbled out the door, his little black boots bounding on the adobe brick. The loud roaring of the wheels rolled behind him as he made his way towards the eopie that would bring us to my ship.

"Come on!" I heard him shout as he stopped before the giant creature, his blue suitcase promptly in front of him.

I smiled, feeling a little bit better... "I'm coming, Luke!"

---

"Wow, you're so good at riding those things!!" He exclaimed as they had reached town center. "Can you teach me sometime?" I got off the eopie, after I had lifted his off onto the ground. His father's eyes shone up at me and I laughed.

"I'm not that good, Luke," she said, blushing.

"Actually, you are," he said. "Can you fly ships, too? I have tried before but I got in trouble and--"

I couldn't resist: "Your father was a pilot."

He nearly jumped, the kid was so excited. "Really?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, he was a great one, too," I told him, ruffling his hair. "Are you a pilot, Luke?"

"No," he said too quickly, his eyes looking down. "But I wish I was, and I will be some day!"

He pulled on his shirt a little as I smiled down on him, admiring my beautiful son. If only Anakin...

"Is my Dad on--wherever we're goin'?"

It was such an innocent statement with so many bold words--I didn't know how to answer to him, obviously. Could I lie, and say that he is on a "trip"? Or should I tell him the full and complete truth: that his father was not going to come back (without a little leeway), and would never meet Luke or Leia? It would be fair to tell him the truth; it would be brutal to tell him otherwise. It struck me as odd when Luke said "Dad", but doesn't call me "Mom" or "Mommy". Weird jealous set in again.

I smiled sadly, "No, Luke, he is not going to be there."

"Oh."

He grabbed my hand as we boarded the ship from the long, silver skift.

"I've never been on a ship before," he confessed, settling into the cruiser. He poked his head into the small compartments and the large one, the room set out for me and Luke. This ship wasn't anything like the ship that I had during my term as Queen or even during the Clone Wars; it was less of an image, and it didn't scream royalty when it was flown.

No, it was different. The paint had began to chip just last year, and the steering was a little stiff, and there were few compartments.

I had brought Leia to Alderaan on his ship, and her basinet from that long time ago was still in the left compartment, shoved into a corner. I smiled thinking about my daughter, missing her so.

Realizing I had to turn back to reality, I laughed shortly and said, "This is hardly a ship, kiddo."

He gave me a brief puzzled look, but then his eye caught the cockpit. His little feet and short legs brought him to the passenger's seat next to where I would be seated. He smiled, feeling the leather chairs that I had Captain Typho replace before retiring from his post (for suspicion reasons).

"Wow-w," Luke echoed under his breath. "When are we gonna leave?" He turned around to look at me, when he said that, and then turn back to stare at the massive amounts of buttons blinking on the panel in front of him. He obviously wished to push one.

"Now," I answered, climbing into the seat next to him. "Buckle in, Luke," I told him, pushing a red button near me that let the skift in and boosted the engines.

I had learned the fly when I was sixteen, after I made myself public and my body guard, my protection, was revealed. I needed to learn to fly on my own if I needed to, and it proved in later years that I did. The truth really is that a certain nine year old boy told me he was a pilot, and then I saw him race, and realized that I needed to be a pilot if I was going to survive in the... real world (of politics). I flew when my life was in danger before the Clone Wars began, and then when I was needed on Ilum, and when I didn't trust Threepio with lifting-off when I went to see Anakin on... Mustafar. And, of course, now.

Luke made a small "jet" noise with his mouth and used his hands to show me how a ship takes off. "And... we're off!"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

--

Luke had slept the entire way, once I told him to settle down and that it was past his bedtime. He seemed to obey me, and curled up in the seat next to me and fell asleep. After we were in hyperspace, I had laid a nerf wool blanket over him.

"Luke," I said, shaking him. "Luke, wake up."

His eyes bugged open, slowly though, and he stared at me for a second, them pushed the blanket off of him. "Are we here?" He asked, looking over the cockpit shield.

I smiled, nodding, and tussling his silky blonde hair. "Come and get your stuff ready—I want you to meet a few friends of mine, Luke," I said, getting up and collecting his day robes from the storage cupboard in the hallway.

He soon quickly followed, eager to get off the ship.

We made our way down the skift, greeted by Sabé, my re-hired handmaiden, Bail Organa, and Threepio. I smiled at them all, grabbing hold of Luke's now trembling hand as he looked across the forest of Dantooine, our remote landing location, not far from where I lived.

"Padmé!" Sabé said, reaching for me and holding me in a hug, while I was still clutching Luke's hand. After she had let go of me and the brief hug ended, she looked down upon my son, and said, "This must be Luke."

She knelt down and became eye level with him, and said something I couldn't hear. I forced my gaze onto Bail, a man I really did not want to talk to—

I didn't want to hear about Leia, oddly, for I feared that that might bring me closer to wanting her here with me, too. I didn't know if I could let that happen.

He was the next to hug me, and strangely enough, Luke. "It's good to see you again, Padmé," he brought me over to Threepio, and I left Luke to pan for himself next to Sabé. "I thought he'd be in better hands here, you know… for now I've deactivated him," he turned the golden droid around and showed me how to switch him on and off, like I had never done that before in my life.

There was so much Bail didn't know.

"And he's been kind of getting in the way, you know," he continued. I noticed he kept saying 'you know'. I really didn't know; I hadn't seen my daughter in years, "Plus, we've hired a tutor droid for Leia, since she has such an interest in politics."

I let the smile creep onto my face for a few seconds. I couldn't say that I was happy to see the annoying protocol droid again—I was honestly a little mad that he was separating him and Artoo, for they, weird as it is, were the best of friends. Plus, I didn't want the chirpy and constant reminder of Anakin anymore than I already had. At least Bail had wiped his mind when he was given to Leia after I 'died'.

"A tutor droid?" I asked. "Will she not be attending youth programs?"

Bail smiled, happy that I had brought this up, obviously. "Yes, of course," he said proudly, "She has been accepting in the finest primary youth schools over Alderaan, as well as old worlds."

I wanted to tell him that she should go to where I went to school, where my career began, on Naboo. "Is she sure this is the direction she wants to go in, Bail? She is just only six years old—Luke doesn't even know what in the nine hells 'politics' is."

He winced. "Yes, but Luke was raised on a farm with—"

"—Perfectly kind people," I finished for him, annunciating every word, making she that he knew that I thought of the Lars as the nicest people on Tatooine. Obviously they had to be; Shmi had married Cliegg, as he had freed her. "It's just from what I see it's hard for a six year old to make a decision that will influence her career. I don't want her to do something just because it's in her _blood_."

He made a weird noise with his mouth, like _hmm_, and then nodded. "I agree," he said, "I will talk to her," he said, he looked over my shoulder to Luke telling Sabé excitingly about his journey on a starship. "Right now, we have Luke to settle in."

I nodded. I tossed the bag of packed clothes and plushies that belonged to Luke on the shoulder, gesturing to them. "He doesn't have much, so settling in won't take long."

"That's not what I meant—"

"I know."

He paused. He leaned in close to me, "Lock your doors at night, and not to bring Luke to the market in the mornings with you, and keeping him out of public schools and youth programs would be the best idea—"

"He'll be schooled by me." I considered myself a smart person—I could teach a child.

"—make sure if you go out to restaurants you sit in a nondescript place inside the restaurant, and privately book…" he saw me wince and frown at this, this obscene rich trend that made people 'prebook' restaurants with a chosen table and waiter. "Okay, well, you know what I mean…"

I nodded, and bit my forefinger nail. I listened into Luke's conversation with Sabé. "There was so many buttons, Miss Sabé, and I got to push one—" I smiled at the youngness. Only time could tell when he'd dream of being a Jedi, when he'd discover more and more than he could use the force like his father.

Bail rambled on about safety, and I drifted away. Something caught me hearing, though, and I alerted back.

"And I also think you should change his last name, because Skywalker is kind of, well, _obvious_, isn't it?"

I frowned. "I don't know, Bail. I don't think that would really persist to the matter because the fact is that I'm going to be schooling him, so what does it matter? He's basically illegal. He doesn't exist. So if his name is Skywalker, so what? Its just a reminder of his father, to me…"

"Padmé, you can't think of him like—"

I bit another nail. "I watched the HoloNet when I was on Tatooine. I know what he's become," he said evenly. "Its good to remember who he was, though. He was a good man, and I know that he still is…"

There was an awkward pause, until Bail said, "Why don't we head back to you home, Padmé?"

--


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

--

"Are you sure you've childproofed this room, Padmé? Because this coffee table seems to have sharp edges—" Bail observed my apartment, my home, running his finger over the teak wood table that I had situated before my brown, boring sofas. He rubbed his hands over one of the throw pillows, which was lined with decorative beads.

"You know children can choke on these really easily," he said, and then threw it back down. He proceeded to make his way towards the high windows that went from floor to ceiling, and examined it.

I began to tap my foot.

"I'm positive you haven't childproofed this yet. The windows come so close to the floor—and its such a high drop!" He realized his tone of voice was loud. I wasn't a high drop at all; I had made sure of that. It was a story up, and below were forest gardens with long stemmed roses. "You should get the approved locks—"

I couldn't stand it anymore,

"Bail, I _highly doubt_ that Luke will unintentionally walk right over the edge of the window. Or bump his head on the coffee table. _Or_ eat a pillow."

He frowned. "I was only trying to help," he defending. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"When Leia was a child she was a bundle of laughs, and she was always running around, hurting herself." He laughed at the thought. Somehow I couldn't manage to laugh. "Breha hired someone to oversee the house for dangerous edges the next day," he said.

I paused; I didn't know what to say. "How is she?"

He frowned again, and took the same pause I had. Then he ran his hands through his hair. "She's hanging in there," he finally said, "The doctors say she doesn't have much longer."

I took a step towards him. My hands found its way around his shoulders, pulling him into a friendly hug. "Oh, Bail," I said, "I didn't realize it had gotten so bad."

He pulled apart, and obviously he didn't want to talk about it. "I'm just worried how Leia will take it. Padmé, I think she knows she's going to go. She's been quiet and moody lately, and always clinging to her mother, trying to get away from her tutors."

I believed that she knew that Breha was going to die sometime in the near future. After all, even if Bail didn't want to admit it, Leia was also a piece of her father. She could very well become a Jedi if she chose; I have a feeling that she'll become a politician, only because of the influences that she has around her. (By this I mean of course the excessive and ridiculous tutoring that is going on in the Organa household)

"If there is anything I can do to help, it'll be my pleasure," I said. Selfishly I thought, _I'll take Leia off your hands… _but quickly wished I hadn't.

He seemed to put on a smile, almost trying to convince himself. He peaked out the window. "I see Luke is enjoying Dantooine already," he laughed.

I had sent Dormé out with Luke to play in the garden while I set up and made sure everything was in order for when Luke came back inside to finally begin living with me.

It seemed they were in a very loose game of hide and seek, and Luke was hiding in the tall grass near the edge of the garden. Dormé giggled as she called out, "Come out wherever you are!" She could obviously see him, but was purposely searching in all the wrong places. Pretty soon Luke popped up and said, "I can't believe you couldn't find me! I'm right here, silly!" They lapsed in another fit of giggles, and decided to play again.

It should have been me outside; I wanted to be the one to play with my son. Instead I was inside talking to a man I hardly liked.

It wasn't that I didn't like Bail, per say. I liked him—I consider him such a great friend for taking in Leia. It's more of a jealousy thing, though; I miss my daughter.

There was an awkward tension, and Bail suddenly said, "I think it's time for me to head back to the base," he said, and looked around for his coat.

I grabbed it off the rack, and gave it to him. He muttered a thank you.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

I nodded. "Bail, I'll be fine. He's in another sector; I bet he can't even sense me anymore." Sadness hung over me like a dark rain cloud suddenly. I felt an urge to bring my hand to my japor snippet, but I decided against it.

I was ordered to dispose of anything that reminded me of Anakin that week that he had turned and the twins had been born, and I was in recovery, and things moved so fast—one day I was on Mustafar, the next on Tatooine, then on Alderaan. I had said I got rid of all of Anakin's possessions, but, how in a million years could I get rid of something so precious, so loving that I child had made for me, before all of this had happened?

He gulped. The awkwardness was happening again. I felt a lump form in a stomach. "I meant Luke." He paused. "Do you think you'll be alright, with Luke?"

Again I nodded. "Thank you," I said, "Tell your wife I said hello—and tell Leia… never mind."

I closed the door with a final wave.

I found myself with my back against the door, suddenly stroking my japor snippet, which had worn edges that were once carved by a boy who had called me an angel. My fingers skimmed the cresses and carvings and ran up the leather sash that hung around my neck. Tears formed in my eyes, and pretty soon I found myself upon the cold wooden floor, my legs sprawled before me.

I ran my hands through my curly hair, and then used the same hand to brush away a tear that had fallen from the pool that had formed in my eyes. I felt ashamed that I was suddenly crying.

Memories flooded my head from this moment on: our marriage, our honeymoon night, times in the meadows of Naboo, strolling in the market—as normal people, seeing him after missions, learning that he had become a Knight, learning that I was pregnant, telling him that I was pregnant, seeing his face…

His face…

Was it different now? Were his eyes permanently yellow; was his hair longer? Was there the same stubble that I had felt all those years ago? Was his skin still tanned and toned from the endless days in the sun on the missions he had been sent on? Was he still the same Anakin that I remember, or has he changed, for the worse? Was it possible for anybody to turn him back?

I couldn't answer.

I padded into Luke's room, adjacent to mine, surveying it. I perfected it by pulling the sheets, straightening them out, and organizing the model X-Wings that I had bought years ago that were places intricately on shelving units by his mirror.

I walked out to the deck that had a staircase that led downward to the garden, and I found myself there in no time. I watched Luke hop around with Dormé, in a tough game of tag.

My son spotted me watching him with my eyes bright and my arms crossed over my chest to show that I was, indeed, cold, and I smiled at his genuinely. He saw me, and ran towards me.

I kneeled in, for I knew that this was somehow going to end in a hug. Nonetheless, he came towards me, and engulfed me in a giant hug, his arms hanging from my neck when I stood up. I giggled, and said, "Are you okay, Mommy?"

I choked up at the sound of his calling me 'Mommy', but quickly pushed past it. "I'm okay, Luke," I told him. I kissed his cheek and said, "Do you want to see your room?"

--

A/N: I'm rather happy with this chapter! Please review! x


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

--

A/N: This chapter is a bit of a change from the normal chapters I write for this story--please enjoy.

--

The months seemed to pass by and before I knew it I started to get to know my little boy.

I found he didn't like drinking his milk without a coaster placed underneath the glass on the kitchen table, that his favorite HoloNet programs were _Kaluga's Adventures_ and _Chuuka & Yuka_, the music tracks that he liked all were on one record that he apparently has listened to his 'entire life', that he liked falling asleep with the light in the 'fresher on, that he needed his stuffed shaak, and he liked to sleep.

Having Luke with me also made me discover a lot about myself, too. I found that I was a good mother, overall, and despite the things I have done to protect my children, I would never change my decision to retrieve Luke from Tatooine for anything.

I discovered that I loved with he fell asleep next to me when I was reading a novel or when I reviewing my datapad from the Alliance; I loved having his body snuggled next to me, the pillows perfectly forming to his shape as he slept.

The times when Luke was hungry, I was reading cookbooks and various articles to make up for the fact that I was an experienced and a, truthfully, _terrible_ cook. I made a way for my to make the child foods that Luke seemed to need.

When I was busy, whether it was with the rebellion or housework, Threepio would teach Luke what I could not.

He began to learn simple maths, methods, and, of course, how to turn off the golden rod droid when he became too annoying. I taught him history and politics, geography of the galaxy, sciences, and Jedi history (a different way than the empire requires.), which he was very interested in.

I couldn't help but notice the reflections of Anakin in my son. His hair was the same as Anakin's had been when I had first met him—blonde and shiny, boyish and cute. Not only that, but he loved X-Wings and anything to do with the Jedi. Sometimes I wish I could teach him better about the Jedi—about the battles, how they were fought, some heir loomed stories—but I couldn't. It wasn't like I was there.

The entire time I was on the sidelines.

--

_I remember watching him. I remember watching him through the fake, blue HoloNet screen that I grew to hate over the years. We had said goodbye to each other four months before, and the pain of missing him grew with every day, every hour, even. _

_I still couldn't believe myself, ourselves, after all these months, I still couldn't believe it._

_Clasping the japor snippet in my hand, I tucked in inside my voluminous robes that concealed my secret, and grabbed my bag and slipped out the door. Heading to a Senate meeting, I felt like this was the dullest thing in my life._

_I couldn't go help the Jedi, I couldn't go help the clones—I mean, they were clones—and I felt helpless. There was no room for humanoid nurses in the traveling hospitals on the many planets the battles were going on in, for droids had replaced a once-prestigious job. I thought I could do nothing—I needed to do something._

_After all, I was a reason we got into this war. That damn assassin—I was wasn't on Naboo with Anakin…_

_It's funny how you can regret something so wonderful. It is great at the time, it seems like a good idea, but then you get a glimpse at reality and realize that you just missed a major part of your career—and will therefore come right up and bite you right in the ass._

_Like I said, it's funny._

--

"Mommy, why is it that we can't go to the places that you teach me about?"

I frowned, watching his little fingers trace the patterns that the Holo that I was showing of the Inner Core, which reflected onto the kitchen wall. It was such a simple question that I couldn't bring myself to answer right away.

"Luke, honey," I placed my hand on his head and he climbed back into his usual seat. He glanced down at his work, and then started back at me with his big, blue eyes that belonged to his father, "I knew a Jedi once, and remember what I told you, what happened about seven years ago?"

He nodded, eager to tell me about what he had learned, "The Jedi Purges—the unfair holocaust of—"

I nodded briefly and he ceased the discussion, "Well, since we know the Jedi, we could be a target of the empire… and that is why we can't go to all the places, even thought I wish you could see everything that I have—"

_Well, not everything, my dear Luke._

Luke looked down onto his paper with his print on it. He picked up the pen and began to write his four-letter name on the paper over and over again, practicing. "Oh," he said, simply.

I shrugged after a moment, realizing he wasn't going to say anything more. Sometimes Luke was like this—he'd ask a question, and act like he wasn't interested. Later, though, he'd be completely interested, and want to ask me everything about it. Last week, it was a particular plant in our garden that we work hard on in the mornings.

Maybe he'd ask more about it later—and I will tell him about my involvement in the Jedi, and my involvement with a _particular_ Jedi…

--

_I wore a pink dress, which was short and summery. I didn't bother to tie my hair up; instead I let it hand loose and curl down over my shoulders. When my family greeted me at the door, I smiled and sang praises of 'how are you's and 'so good to see you's. _

_Being a Naberrie, it was all about the food. My mother had already placed a plate of appetizer on the long kitchen table, and I was about to grab one when both my nieces grabbed each of my legs and screamed, "Auntie Padmé!"_

_I smiled, kneeling down and kissing them each on their cheeks. They had grown so much; I remember feeling like I was missing a big part of my life and my time to have children of my own was running out as I got older. _

_Anakin was, again, off on the fronts and I was left with a holiday that I couldn't spend with my husband, instead it was spent traveling eight hours to go to Naboo. I was fine with it; but obviously I would rather my husband there with me._

_Later, when I was helping my sister Sola in the kitchen, when she said, bluntly, "How's Anakin?"  
_

_I was speechless. I huffed for a moment, taking in some air, and dropped the plate I was washing in the sink, which made an embarrassing bang. _

"_Relax, sis, I was just wondering how he was—"_

_Then I remembered that my family had met Anakin, and he wasn't a particular item of mine during that time. They treated him like a real Naberrie, and I felt happy about that. But now, I felt embarrassed. I blushed._

"—_Unless…" Sola's cheekiness astounded even me, "_unless_ I was right all along!" She pointed an accusing finger at me, still blushing and frozen. She cooled down, acting breezy, but I could tell she was forcing herself not to laugh in my fair with gloat. "So, how is he?" _

_Even though I was not a Jedi, I could hear Sola's mind finishing that sentence with 'in bed'. _

_I picked up the dish again and began to scrub it. "He's fine, and there is nothing going on between us—and there never was," I was surprised by how nonchalant I was acting about this. Suddenly, I was proud._

"_Right."_

--

We were in the garden one-day when it started to rain. Luke loved rain, which I had discovered and found that lack there of rain on Tatooine. He danced around in it, happily.

His shoes were getting muddy, his hair sticking to his forehead with wetness, and his children's tunics were getting soaked with rainwater.

If I were a regular mother, I would have been shouting at him—telling him that he'd catch a cold in the rain and that his expensive clothes would be ruined.

But instead I got out there with him, the same thing happening to me.

Then again, I'm not a regular mother, am I?

--


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

--

We woke up early to go pick the wild berries in the forest behind our tiny house. There was a pathway leading into the vast amounts of tall, thick trees, which was lined with tiny stones. The sounds of the animals, the life, in the forest waking up were exciting but loud, and Luke seemed to love them. He placed every creature in the forest, what he had learned from Threepio and the children's books I read him at night, and imitated the sounds they made.

Luke and I were becoming increasingly close. We spent day and night together, and it was clear to me what was going on in his head. We had our friendly inside jokes and exchanged stories about nothing. It was perfect.

As we crept up on the ten or so berry trees and Luke wriggled out of my grasp and began picking. I, too, picked some berries, placing them inside my basket, which was matching to Luke's, except mine was double the size.

"Luke, there are really good berries over here!"

And he came running. He stuffed the berries in his basket, accidentally smashing some of them and letting them ooze through his fingers, childishly.

I didn't yell at him when he wiped the blue substance on his tunic; I didn't care, he was a child.

--

Later, we found ourselves in the kitchen. Our baskets were half full, and we had more than enough berries.

Luke was sitting on the wooden kitchen stool, a bowl of mixture in his lap. He was messily beating the mixture with the tool, sticking out his tongue in concentration. He grunted in frustration.

"You okay there, Luke?" I asked, looking up from sorting the berries into good and bad collections. "You seem like you need help."

I came up around him and mixed it with him. He finally got the hang of it, after teaching him very carefully to use his wrist, not his arm. Smiling up at me and thanked me and went on to stick out his tongue in concentration again.

I smiled, still sorting the berries. After a moment of silence, I realized it was too quiet.

"Say we turn on some music?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. This was his trigger to go turn on the stereo system, letting the soft rock soothe us into the baking that we did every other morning.

I realized I loved this life. I realized that being a mother was far more important that being a Senator, being a Queen. I realized that I loved Luke more than anything.

It's funny, because I hold a certain love for my husband that is different from Luke. I can't describe it; I love Anakin with all my heart. He was a kind, devoted man to his duty and to his wife, his love. There is still that love inside of him, I assure you—after all those years of brotherly love to Obi-Wan and the love he feels (felt?) for me must mean something; not all his lost with his body.

With Luke, I love him in a way that I would lay down my own life for my son. It's obvious that the love I feel for Luke is somewhat similar to the love that Anakin had once felt for me. Anakin had lost himself in that _love_; Anakin had forgotten what it felt like to be _in _love. But I still believe he hasn't forgotten…

_Completely._

"So, how's about we bake some muffins now?" I said to him, my voice audible over the loud music. He nodded and slowly carried the bowl of mixture towards me so we could incorporate the berries in the substance.

My hands began to coax the berries inside the dough, swooshing about inside and breaking some of the berries, letting the nice blue-violet colour run. Luke peered over my shoulder.

"You know what they say about berry muffins," I said, hinting for him to answer the question.

He smiled sweetly. "What?"

"That if you eat the dough, you'll turn into one big giant dough ball," I said. He giggled and so did I.

"That's not true!" He suddenly said. "It can't be. I had some dough when you weren't looking."

"I know," I said.

He cocked his head, his hair shifting to the side of his face. "How?" He asked, oddly curious.

"For one, Mommies know everything," I said through a smile. "And two, you have dough on the side of your cheek." At that, he elapsed into a fit of kid giggles, and I watched his try to wipe off the dough on his cheek with his sleeve.

I put the muffins inside the oven. "Ten minutes," I said to him. "Tell me when its ten minutes…"

"They're supposed to be golden brown, that's what Threepio said, and he looked in the recipe book and then he went and showed me and I read it aloud—"

"All right Luke," I said, and laughed. "You can go colour but makes sure to tell me when its been ten minutes!"

"Okay," and he ran and to his colouring book, a gift from Bail the last time he visited.

Not five minutes later, when I had already divulged myself into my HoloNet news reports in my datapad, Luke jumped up. He turned off the music, and screamed, "Mommy!"

I laughed, calling him a silly boy. "Lukie, it's only been five minutes—not even—they aren't golden brown yet—"

"No!" Luke screamed again, his voice louder then before. That was the last thing he said before he ran into his room. He tried to grab my wrist, but I said, "Luke, I'm going to go check on the muffins," wriggling away.

I giggled childishly at my son, reacting and getting excited over something that was in his room.

But then I felt it.

I'm not a Jedi, but I could feel this.

Luke wasn't excited. He was frightened. He was scared. Luke was running away. And I was walking right into it.

I walked right by my HoloRecorder machine, and it had three new messages. I pressed 'play', and Bail's face lit up in a shimmery, see-through blue hologram. He didn't look happy.

"Padmé," he said, "You need to get out of there. Apparently—"

It cut off. The next one began to play.

"I'm sorry about before, something happened, maybe its your connection—"

It cut off again.

"Padmé, get out of there now," it was choppy from there, with the words 'imperials' said and 'Dantooine' said as well.

Then I knew why my son had run. He had run away from _them_. They had found us.

He had run away from _him._

And then I heard the breathing.

--


	11. Chapter 11

**Home**

Chapter 11

AN: I really enjoyed writing this story, and I've grown rather attached to the first person writing style, as well as the character of Luke. While the ending is abrupt I find it to be appropriate. I might do a epilogue, but I'm still unsure. As always, please review! Thanks so much to my loyal readers!

--

In a parallel universe, I would have felt afraid. But it wasn't like that—no, for some reason, it was not—this was reality. I was here, in the kitchen, and my son was _not_.

He was here, standing in the hallway, casually walking down. I don't think he saw me right away, for at that moment I sank to the ground and crouched on all floors, scampering as fast as I could into the dining area.

I tried to find a suitable spot to hide, but the only spot I could think about was the pantry closet. Cliché I know, but I hid inside nevertheless.

It wasn't like I couldn't hear him. He was a lot larger than they made him out to be on the HoloNet—the prosthetic limbs that he now had must have been larger than his original, and the suit probably held way to much technology to call himself a 'human'. He might have had lifts in his boots, by the way his heels clicked against the hardwood.

And then shadows filled the cracked underneath the close doors that kept me hidden inside the closet. He was right here, right in front of me.

Strangely, as I said before I wasn't afraid when he opened the doors. I wasn't afraid of his rabid breathing, the mechanics the operated what he had become.

"Anakin," I breathed.

He reached with his mechanical arm—the one I knew well—but pulled away, almost an inch from my face. He couldn't do it, whatever he was going to do.

The breathing continued while he said, "I thought you were dead, Padmé." The cold, dark plastic mask the kept his face covered stared at me with lifeless eyes. I wondered then what was really looked like, if the rumors were true, if he was badly disfigured and hardly looked the same anymore.

I swallowed. My eyes drilled into him, tears welling in them, and said, "Don't hurt him, Anakin," I reached up to wipe my eyes, "Just—" I paused, searching his mask for any form of expression, "_please_," I whispered.

It seemed like silence between us, but it wasn't, clearly, because of his breathing, which had become heavy and short since he entered the house. I wondered then if this was the same person who had married me, kissed me at twilight, and fathered my children.

It was, _he _was, but it was hard to see that, staring at him now.

Then he spoke, "I won't hurt him, Padmé," he walked over into the kitchen, and leaned back onto the countertop. He was surprisingly casual, and I didn't trust him, for I was expecting a group of clones to come and demolish our house and the people within it any moment.

But instead, he was here, just—_leaning_.

"I've missed you," he said softly, as soft as he could, and pressed his forehead (mask) into the palm of his metallic hand. "You've been dead for almost—"

"Seven years," I finished, "Yes."

He looked back up, and asked, "What happened to you? How did you hide?" His voice was barely audible in the beginning, but the volume was growing with every question. I could feel his anger begin to rise, and a knot formed in my stomach. "_Why_ did you hide? Why did you hide him from me?"

Then I realized I was, in fact, afraid.

"I…I…"

I had every answer for this—every answer but I still couldn't respond. I looked down to the ground, forcing my gaze away from the man I once loved, a man I think I still do love, if he if truly alive within spirit and soul.

He stopped leaning, and took three steps closer to me. I didn't move, and I kept my head down facing the hardwood floors. I saw his hands form a fist, and I couldn't think of what I do. I was frozen.

"You've denied me of my own son, my own—" His hand was raised, and I suddenly knew what he was going to do next.

My throat scratched as first, and I forced myself I cough. Then I grabbed my neck, in hope that maybe he would stop. It failed, and no matter how many times I could try to scream his name, tell him that he was still a good person, I couldn't speak anymore.

"_Mommy!_"

Luke ran towards me, and big blue eyes stared deeply as the monster in the kitchen.

He let the invisible grip on me go upon seeing his own child, and his breathing seemed heavier than before, somehow. His mask remained fixated on my and Luke, somewhat of a reminder of how Anakin had been with his own mother.

Somehow I regained all senses, despite the fact that my throat was now in very bad condition, and pulled my son into my arms. The boy buried his head into my shoulder, hugging me and never wanting to let go. My eyes remained burned onto Vader, the man who tried to kill me—twice—and I contemplated his next move. Would he apologize, rip off his mask and die in front of us, or would he take Luke, his apparent son, and hold him hostage to create a pawn for the emperor.

What would happen?

Luke's breath slowed down as I stroked his hair, telling him to 'shhh' like mothers do, but my eyes never left that of Vader.

Then he spoke.

"_I'm_… I'm so sorry," his voice was audible, but only if you were listening. His body slouched into a position of self-hatred, fists clenched, one rubbing the top of his mask. It was strange to see someone so powerful be so vulnerable, so weak, so feeble for what he had done.

His free hand grasped the end of his cape, tugging at it. He took four steps.

Then he left.

--

I put Luke to bed that night, and he said nothing. We did nothing. The muffins we were making were burnt. I turned on the HoloNet that night after tucking him in, changing the channel to a news anchor that I trusted enough to give me (being the people) reliable information.

Darth Vader had disappeared.

--

_The End._


End file.
